


Doesn’t react well to situations not involving money or violence

by claireweasley (dul_cin_ea)



Category: Firefly
Genre: M/M, Other, Romantic Fluff, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22905895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dul_cin_ea/pseuds/claireweasley
Summary: He hears Jayne before he sees him.
Relationships: Jayne Cobb/Simon Tam
Kudos: 51





	Doesn’t react well to situations not involving money or violence

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted on livejournal on 26 July 2005, and has been exported from there, so apologies for the (undoubtedly numerous) extremely old errors.

He hears Jayne before he sees him. As always. Simon’s in the middle of sterilizing a handful of syringes when he hears the sputtering, something –words possibly, he thinks. Jayne yelling out a irate, vague, incoherent curse as he stomps, bear-like along the grated hallway. It makes Simon wonder if he really knows any mandarin at all. He sighs, and ﬂattens his hands against the stiﬀ, starched apron.

‘…Your _gorram_ sister is in my room, again!’ Jayne is pointing for emphasis ‘I’ve told you Doc, I’ve told Mal, I’m going to put her out the rutting airlock!’

Simon exhales slowly through his nostrils. Well, Jayne doesn’t have a gun this time, and that’s something. It might be even slightly amusing if this wasn’t the fourth time this week, and if he thought Jayne was at least halfway joking about the airlock, or even that anyone on the ship would try to stop him. River’s behavior had become increasingly erratic lately, and it was wearing thin on everyone.

He’s trying to be patient.

Simon pulls oﬀ his apron and pushes past the disgruntled mass.

‘Trust me Jayne, her apparent aﬀection for your room is as disturbing to me as it is to you –River?’

He ﬁnds her, sure enough, in that place. The room smells like several dead animals reside there, and he wouldn’t be surprised to ﬁnd that was actually the case. The only clean things are the throng of guns tacked adoringly to the wall. This time around she’s ferreted herself under the bed, legs protruding and ﬂailing slightly sideways as she moves underneath it. Revulsion is his most immediate response.

‘River get out from under there, please. That‘s Jayne‘s bunk and–’ Simon makes a face. ‘Well, you don’t know what could be under there, you could catch something’

‘I ain’t got no diseases’ Jayne is beside him, sounding only slightly oﬀended. ‘Leastways not since–'

‘River, quickly, before he talks anymore’ Simon interrupts, not thinking about it. ‘There’s nothing to see there, its– what is that?’

She’s out from underneath the bunk and pulling dust bunnies from her chaotic hair, and putting them in her pocket. In her other hand, also coated in dust, is what looks like a playing card.

‘It’s indissoluble proof,‘ she replies simply.

Simon frowns, not understanding. He looks at Jayne, who looks back, equally confused, brow knotted together tightly. He leans in against Simon, shoulder pressing into his back, muttering.

‘What she just call me?’

Simon steps forward and addresses his sister again ‘Proof of what?’

She’s at his side before he can move, dancing around him like she’s been able to since she was small. She nods in the direction of Jayne who has moved to his bed to inspect his belongings.

‘Of matter currently misplaced’ she murmurs.

Simon blinks. Her smile is so wide, so assured, that he’s beginning to feel a little uneasy ‘River, I really don’t think–.’ 

‘Doc?’

‘Alright,’ he snaps. ‘I’m going, and I’m taking my sist—’ 

‘Your sister’s done something to the gorram intercom!’

Simon sighs, turning to Jayne who is pensive, crouched over the little black receiver ‘Look I’m sorry alright, get Kaylee to ﬁx it, you can’t blame –River’s not herself lately she–’

The door slams above them with the slick crush of metal against metal, and Simon jumps. He’s not really rattled, at least not till he hears the pop-hiss and the smell of burnt, burning –something ominous.

‘River?’

He starts to move towards the exit, but doesn’t get far. An over-sized arm hits him in the chest and pushes him aside, and Jayne is halfway up the ladder, and pushing against the doorway before Simon can catch his breath. There’s a second of tense, blessed silence before it bursts

‘Son of a–!’ Jayne ﬁsts are pummeling the metal, making dull, painful thunks as he rattles another line of incoherent cuss words. Apparently he has not only a ﬁrm knowledge of mandarin, but of the reproductive habits of frogs. ‘–she’s glued the ruttin’ door!’

Simon’s stomach twitches. ‘She couldn’t possibly have-’

‘Oh she’s possibly done it alright. She’s used one of them gorram explosive sticker things, and melted-melded–’

‘No.’ Simon’s stomach rolls over on itself. ‘No, no. I’m not stuck in here with you. That’s insane. Use your large monkey arms and get us out of here’

Jayne eyes widen, and he looks suddenly very panicked. ‘She broke the intercom too, it’s sabotage! I told you this was going to happen didn’t I? I know I musta told Mal up to ﬁfteen million gorram times, and now it’s too damn late!’

Simon shuﬄes toward the nearest object and sits, speaking slowly. ‘You’re overreacting Jayne, she’s probably just …playing.’

Jayne jumps down from the ladder and narrowly misses hitting his head on the light. ‘Yeah, right Doc. Playing that fun game called ‘crazy-girl-dismembered-the-crew?‘

It’s not that serious, and Simon knows it, but not-so-happy feeling is creeping up and around the back of his neck, beginning to gnaw at his shoulder blade. River had her odd moments, but she wasn’t– images, a word, ﬂickering somewhere in his memories makes him shudder.

‘What if we yell? Someone–’

‘Ain’t no one going to hear us unless they’re up there pressing their ear right to the door.’ Jayne sits down on the bed, and stares at his guns. He looks likes he’s thinking, but Simon can’t always tell. Sometimes when he looks like that it’s just something he ate.

‘I could use a grenade’ Jayne suggests, almost hopefully. ‘Blow us out of here’ 

‘Sure.’ Simon is diplomatic. ‘But wouldn’t that …kill us?’

‘Might do.’ Jayne concedes. ‘You’re sitting on the can by the way.’

Simon is on his feet, trying to hide his look of horror, and inspecting the back of his freshly ironed pants for– god only knows what -don‘t-even-think-about-it. Jayne laughs at him, and then seems to remember the situation they are in, and returns abruptly to his brooding. There is silence only interrupted by the shuﬄe of Simon’s shoes as he stands awkwardly, in the middle of the room, poised for nothing in particular.

‘They’ll notice we’re missing eventually.’

Jayne snorts ‘Assuming they’re not in itty bitty bite-sized pieces by now, you mean.’

‘River is not going to hurt anyone, she loves it here’ Simon says ﬁrmly, a mix of pride, and anger, and indignation heating his face. Jayne’s expression changes suddenly, and he thinks maybe he’s got the point, but then he opens his mouth.

‘You look like a right girl when you do that’ 

Simon glares at him wordlessly.

‘You know, when you pout all grumpy-like’ Jayne continues, unheeded. ‘–and those shiny vests you wear? Remind me of my Ma. She had these dresses made out of the same sorta stuﬀ, only hers made this crunchy noise when she moved and I ain’t never heard your vests do that’

‘Uh,’ is the only noise Simon is able to make before he turns his back to Jayne, sitting on the ﬂoor and staring directly at the exit. He’ll just sit like this, he thinks, until someone comes and ﬁnds them. Just wait it out quietly. It’ll be ﬁne, just as long as Jayne doesn’t keep sharing.

Sure, it’s a little cold, and the ﬂoor’s a little hard, and okay, it’s pretty late, so maybe no one is coming for them yet, and –he yawns– he’s a little tired. Simon turns his head, and his stomach jolts a little enviously to see Jayne curled up in a blanket, sleeping soundly no doubt, the–.

Jayne’s eyes ﬂy open. ‘What’re you starin’ at me for?’ 

Not asleep then.

‘I’m ..not’ Simon replies, turning away ‘I was just thinking’

There is a long pause, and then a heavy sigh and before Simon can blink, a blanket hits him in the back of the head with so much force it burns his ears and throws his hair forward into his face.

‘Thank you.’ Simon says dryly, pulling the distinctly Jayne-smelling fabric over his shoulders ‘That was sweet.’

‘Ain’t nothing’ Jayne mumbles.

‘You don’t have a spare mattress over there do you?’ Simon asks, almost hopefully ‘Or a coﬀee percolator. Or a heavy sedative. A brick will do.’

He doesn’t get an answer and he doesn’t expect one, so instead Simon busies himself with trying to arrange the mangy blanket in a workable fashion. It’s not as easy as he thought it might be, whenever he covers his shoulders his feet are cold, and when he tries to cover his feet– well, you get the point. He is adjusting it for the seventh time and huﬃng loudly when Jayne gets up, and starts clawing underneath his bunk.

‘I got some mudder’s milk left round here somewhere,’ he says groggily. ‘Will that make you shut the hell up?’

Simon doesn’t answer, but accepts the large bottle thrust into his hands with a grateful grimace. He pulls the cork, and the strong scent of fermented alcohol brings back, with some force, memories of songs, being beaten up rather brutally, and also, dirt. 

Jayne pulls out another bottle, and takes a swig himself.

‘Do you think you’ll ever go back?’ Simon asks suddenly. ‘Like, to visit’ 

Jayne stares back at him like he just asked him to eat a handful of roaches. ‘Only if its my dead corpse being dragged there’

‘That’s cheerful’ Simon smiles. The milk burns his throat, but sends a warm ripple through his stomach. Just a few more swills and he should be able to have no trouble sleeping whatsoever. And with any luck, by the time he wakes, someone will have found them, and everything will be ﬁne. In theory.

‘Have you still got those cards?’ Simon asks.

Jayne squints at him suspiciously, and takes another drink. 

‘You want to play a game, with me?’ 

‘No, I want to play a game of cards with your toilet’

Simon snorts a little milk when Jayne throws the cork at him, but he’s almost stopped worrying about River for the time being, and Jayne is procuring the set of cards from his drawer looking suddenly very animated –well, devious mainly– as if all Simon had needed to do to get on his good side was to set up some sort of competition between the two of them.

He looks at the guns on the wall and wonders what will happen if he loses.

It turns out it’s not exactly a set of cards, and they end up playing poker minus two kings and an ace, plus an extra old maid and an uno card, and with Jayne changing the scores on a regular basis. But Simon doesn’t really mind much, it’s one of the few times since he left the hospital that he’s felt this relaxed. It only occurs to him that he might be somewhat too relaxed when Jayne threatens him in the middle of a game of ‘Go Fish’ with a knife and he just headbutts the ﬂat part.

‘Why dint you do this before Doc?’ Jayne asks, wiping his knife on his sleeve.

Simon means to say that well, he doesn’t regularly get locked in rooms with freak giant men with weapon fetishes on a regular basis, but it comes out as ‘Hunh?’

‘Why didn’t you come over for a ruttin game of cards before? You‘re sure'n right tolerable, without the great bloody stick up your–’

‘You don’t even like me’ Simon says, amazed at how hard the words are to get out at the moment.

‘You say I have shiny girl vests, and –and, you say I‘m fat’

‘I ain’t never said you’re fat.’

‘Okay’ Simon says, though he is pretty sure this is untrue, as Jayne says rude things about him all the time. He swigs again from the bottle, overcompensating and making a little milk roll down his chin an onto his vest. He tries to lick it up, but mostly he just tastes material and dust.

‘So, what now Cobb?’

‘I got a game.’ He spits a little when he’s speaking. 

Simon grins back at him ‘Pain isn’t a game.’

Jayne looks crestfallen.

It’s so warm. So nice and warm and shiny and nice and warm and hairy, Simon thinks. Cozy nice soft arms. His feet are not at all cold now and he can hear his own heart beating he’s so nice and comfortab–

_What?_

Simon opens his eyes slowly, becoming increasingly aware of his surroundings. It’s kind of dark. He can’t really move his arms, and there is a heavy weight across his back. The heart he can hear beating is not his, but belongs to the slightly hairy chest that his head is currently nestled into.

_Oh god._

Hazy memories of the night before are seeping back into his consciousness, helped along by the several bottles of mudder’s milk that he can see, with the cards strewn across the ﬂoor, and the humming in his head that’s rapidly turning into pounding. He wriggles a little, trying to get himself loose, but the arms simply tighten around him more, and a little sleepy sigh escapes lips just above his head–

_Oh god. Oh god._

He lifts his head slightly. Jayne is still asleep, looking oddly innocent with his mouth turned up the way it is. Shut up, Simon. Think. If he can get out of his grasp without –he wriggles a little more and then rolls slightly sideways, carefully applying pressure to Jayne’s arm–

‘What in the gorram hell?’

Too late. 

Simon cringes, and uses Jayne’s surprise to launch himself out of his grip and oﬀ him and his bunk in one awkward leap. He scrabbles for his shirt and vest and takes the fact that his pants are still on as a small consolation.

Jayne doesn’t speak to him but stalks past, and somewhat emphatically, scales the ladder. Simon can feel his face burning.

‘Why won’t someone let us–’ And just like that, like a bizarre hallucination, the door swings upward as soon as Jayne hits at it. ‘Out.’

Simon can feel his jaw lagging a little, and only shuts his mouth when Jayne stares back at him, looking appropriately perplexed.

Simon is pulling on his vest when he gets to the living area, where the rest of the crew, including River are eating breakfast –no, lunch. He would, wants to say something– an explanation, but Jayne is saying enough for the both of them, rather he’s yelling profanities at the top of his lungs.

‘Inside voice, Jayne,’ Mal ﬁnally interrupts, wiping his mouth. ‘We opened the door this morning when River told us what she had done.’

‘Then why…?’ Jayne doesn’t see the smirks, and red faces, but Simon does and closes his eyes in a mute kind of horror.

‘Well’ Mal says, a smile curling his lips ‘We thought the two of you looked so damn pretty together, that it would be terrible cruel to interrupt that.’

Wash loses it ﬁrst, spitting a mouthful of food back onto his plate as he bursts into howls of laughter. Then Zoe after him, though she tries to hide it in a coughing ﬁt. Even Kaylee can’t help herself. It goes until everyone in the room is laughing but he and Jayne. Simon bows his head, burning from head to toe with embarrassment, unsure of what to do, though the urge to run is strongest.

‘I ain’t sly’ Jayne protests ﬁnally ‘I can’t help it if the Doc got his jack oﬀ over me.’

Well, that‘s as good an excuse to leave as any, Simon thinks, sighing inwardly. He turns, walking away from the roar of laughter still annoyingly vibrating in his ears. He thinks maybe he’ll take a long nap, and if he happens to slip into a coma, well, that might be nice.

People are kind enough to leave him well enough alone for most of the day –days after, –Kaylee especially– and he buries himself in a neurology text that Book seemed to conjure out of nowhere. At mealtimes everything is the same except that Jayne and he don’t look at each other, or talk to each other, or even sit near each other. He doesn’t mind all that much, not really.

On the day they land on Bellerophon, Simon pokes his head out of his room to ﬁnd Jayne standing there holding his gun and looking intensely serious. He’s only slightly alarmed by this.

Jayne shuﬄes awkwardly on his feet for a bit and then; ‘I’m only here because– Well, Kaylee says it weren’t right for me to say– what I did, and that she won’t ﬁx my gorram intercom till I says so. So I‘m saying so.’

‘I’m touched’ Simon replies, eyes still on the gun ‘What’s that for?’

Jayne opens his mouth, looks around, and then shuts it again. This makes Simon slightly more nervous. He gestures to the door behind him.

‘If I invite you in to talk, are you going to shoot me?’ 

Jayne shrugs.

Simon sighs. ‘Well, as fun as this little chat was I‘m afraid–’

‘Do you want to hold it?’ Jayne says in an unnecessary whisper. ‘My gun.’

Simon counts to ten, and exhales.

‘That depends on whether you’re talking about the gun you’re holding or your metaphorical gun.’

Jayne furrows his brow and pushes him back into his room, closing the door behind the both of them and hissing;

‘I’m talking about Vera, did you want to hold her or not?’

Simon’s initial reaction is in the negative, and in the ever so slightly derisive. It’s a gun for godssakes, and this –but, as much as he wants to say no, Jayne looks quite sincere, unbalanced sure, but sincere and he doesn’t really want to hurt his feelings.

Assuming Jayne has any of those.

So Simon, with a brief nod, sits down on his bed and holds out his arms. He watches, slightly amused, as Jayne gently, cautiously places the over-sized lump of death machine in his arms, and then sits down next to him. Watching expectantly.

Simon forces a thin smile ‘It’s very nice and– it’s nice.’

Jayne grins widely at him ‘Isn’t she just?’ He points to a compartment on the side. ‘There’s a knife in there just in case you run out of bullets and need to do more killing.’

‘That’s also …very nice’ Simon says politely.

The silence is broken by the door slamming open, and River strolling in, she looks across at Jayne and smiles at him like he’s in there showing oﬀ his guns every day. Then she turns her attention to Simon.

‘He’s missing his ace’

Simon opens his mouth to reply, but she walks out as quickly as she entered, and by that point the realises he has nothing to say anyway. At least nothing that would make any more sense.

Jayne grunts, annoyed, and scratches at the back of his head.

‘Would you really miss your sister all that much if I put her out the airlock?’ 

‘Would you miss Vera if I put her out the airlock?’

Jayne nods as though he understands, and for once Simon thinks maybe he does.


End file.
